This House Has A Delicious Restaurant - Chapter 3 - The Queen of Opera - Part 2

“Are you interested in opera?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

Lazis frowned at my question and began to straighten out the newspaper. He then pushed it to the edge of the table, out of my sight, with a suspicious demeanor.

Come to think of it, the people passing by earlier mentioned that the final opera performance of the season was next week. It seemed that the woman was retiring after that performance…

“Are you perhaps a fan of hers?”

“If you have no money and nothing worthwhile to say, you should leave.”

Lazis stood up, clearly not wanting to continue the conversation.

I unfolded the newspaper Lazis had tidied. I now noticed that a date was marked with a pen on the page about the final performance.

“What if I get a personal autograph from her instead of paying you?”

Since I couldn’t afford to pay and he wasn’t interested in my body, I asked him with the hope that he might value a personal autograph or item from the opera singer more than money.

However, Lazis looked at me with disbelief, unimpressed by my offer.

I started thinking of other options as it seemed I was going to be kicked out with no results. But then he pulled something from his pocket. It was a dark navy handkerchief.

“Let her sign it next to the initials.”

“…You want me to get her to sign a handkerchief?”

“You have until this time tomorrow afternoon. If you can’t keep the promise, don’t bother coming back and just throw away the handkerchief.”

Without answering my question, he said his piece and stood up, leaving me to pick up the handkerchief.

It seems he really is a fan.

I nodded to show I understood and immediately felt myself sink to the ground.

I must have landed on a small stone because I felt pain in my hip. Looking around, I realized I was in an alley, my back against a wall, with another wall close in front of me.

An elderly passerby, startled by the sudden noise, glanced into the alley and, upon meeting my eyes, quickly retreated in surprise.

“Being poor is such a misery…”

I stared down at the handkerchief in my hand, feeling utterly rejected. I seriously contemplated spitting on it. The wall against my back was cold.

I needed to go meet the Queen of Opera, but I didn’t want to move. The coolness on my back was lowering my blood pressure, but looking at the handkerchief annoyed me again.

All right, time to get moving.

I stood up and dusted off my skirt.

As soon as I stepped out of the alley, it was like entering another world, full of people and a bright atmosphere. The streets were bustling with people of all ages, and it seemed like some event was taking place, as stalls lined the streets.

One particular spot was especially crowded, drawing my attention. I headed towards it, curious.

“This is a hat with the actual autograph of Anise, the Queen of Opera!”

It was a small stall where a boy, looking to be in his late teens, was sitting on a newspaper spread on the ground, waving a hat and shouting to the passersby.

However, the response from the crowd seemed lukewarm. I naturally stood at the back of the group, listening to the conversation.

“The Queen, known for not doing fan service, signed that shabby hat?”

“Who would believe such a lie?”

The crowd openly mocked him. From what I gathered, the signature on that hat supposedly belonged to the Queen of Opera, Anise, a recently popular figure.

But judging by the crowd’s reaction, it wasn’t something common.

“It’s true! And she signed it without me even asking!”

“You’ve got some nerve to even try this. You’re gonna get slammed by real fans.”

“Especially now that it’s her final performance and everyone’s on edge.”

She must be more famous than I thought.

Listening to the conversation, I looked at the hat in the boy’s hand. The handwriting on the hat was scribbled. I unfolded the handkerchief I had been holding and compared it to the hat.

I was seriously considering asking the boy to imitate the signature when a woman next to me, noticing what I was doing, spoke up.

“Are you also trying to get that handkerchief signed?”

Her question drew the attention of everyone around, including the boy. I nodded, seeing no reason to hide it.

“Yes. I’d like to get it signed, but from what I hear, it sounds like a very difficult task.”

“You must be a new fan. The Queen of Opera is famous for not doing fan service. Most fans who have followed her since her first performance haven’t been able to get her autograph. She even refuses money for it.”

“I guess the only people who have received it so far are acquaintances or people she likes?”

There is a rumor that you have to be good-looking to get it, a woman said, causing people around her to burst into laughter.

When it was said that such a person had signed on a plain child’s hat, it seemed unbelievable.

The boy seemed to be suppressing anger at the women’s conversation, his face reddened, and he closed his mouth tightly. Others also listened to the women’s conversation, lost interest, and left.

Before I knew it, there were only the boy and me left. It was pitiful to see him sitting with his fists clenched on his knees, unable to twist his hat. As I stared silently at him, he seemed to sense my presence and looked up at me.

“Do you believe what I said?”

“Well, I’m not usually inclined to easily believe others.”

“Then why are you still here?”

The boy, who had briefly hoped for my firm answer, muttered again with a sulky face.

“I was curious how you got the autograph.”

“You said you don’t believe me.”

“Just to confirm, you know.”

“Confirm what?”

Looking puzzled, the boy roughly understood and mumbled. Then he got up from his seat, cleared away the newspaper he had been sitting on, and spoke.

“Still, you’re the only one who didn’t just laugh at me.”

“Are you telling me this?”

“Adults like alcohol, you know. I can offer you some.”

Following the moving boy, we naturally headed towards a place away from the marketplace. A wide square where Khan and Zerdan had traveled was visible. I was worried about what would happen if Khan or Zerdan’s eyes caught me, but I didn’t stop walking because I felt I shouldn’t miss the boy who was talking non-stop.

“My mother runs a bar, not a famous place, but she has quite a few regulars because the taste is so good. Since it’s not far from here, how about having dinner there tonight? It’s okay if you don’t drink!”

“You’re naturally good at soliciting……. But I don’t have any money. And I need to get the autograph quickly because of my situation. Can’t you just tell me the information quickly?”

“But you’re an adult without money?”

I’m sorry that I can’t give you money because you’re such a good kid… The boy hesitated for a moment, then said it was okay to follow him anyway. His mother said that he had to help pitiful people, and I seriously thought about whether to hit him on the back of the head.

But soon, I was filled with remorse for how mean and bad my thoughts were when an unexpected person appeared at the bar where the boy had brought me.

The place the boy brought me to was a common bar in the neighborhood. It had an ordinary, worn-out appearance but a comfortable atmosphere.

In the corner, a group of people who seemed to be regulars, as the boy had said, were sitting down. I glanced at them briefly and followed the boy’s urging inside.

“Mom, I’m here!”

“You’re here early today for some reason.”

A middle-aged woman, presumably the boy’s mother, leaned forward at the boy’s loud voice. She seemed to have been serving food, holding dishes in her hands and looked puzzled at me following behind the boy.

“Who is the person behind you?”

“She’s my guest! She said she needed some information from me, so I brought her to our shop!”

“Oh dear, I don’t know what kind of information you need, but it must have been hard to find.”

To say such things directly in front of a person…

The middle-aged woman laughed heartily and suggested I sit comfortably. Since she recommended it, I settled in a corner, but without money, I couldn’t order food or drinks.

Thanks to the boy bringing me water, I looked around the bar again.

I saw the boy sitting opposite me.

“Come to think of it, what’s your name?”

“It’s Moa Ablon. And you?”